


Situations

by mlyn



Category: Black Hawk Down (2001)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-12-25
Updated: 2005-12-25
Packaged: 2017-10-26 11:10:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/282360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mlyn/pseuds/mlyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grimes is at loose ends after the joint task force returns to the States. Fortunately, Jeff is a kind host.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Situations

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ixchel55](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ixchel55/gifts).



Specialist John Grimes buckled into his seat on the transport aircraft and looked around. No familiar faces in sight. Somebody had screwed up and Grimes had been separated from the rest of the Rangers, getting shuffled in among a bunch of D-Boys. No surprise there: "SNAFU" began as a military term.

Grimes turned to look out the window at the Somali airport. He became absorbed in watching people move around, pushing pallets of supplies and equipment, loading up as quickly as possible so they could get the fuck out of the Mog. On one hand no one wanted to leave; they wanted to stay and finish the job. On the other hand, everyone was looking forward to seeing their homes, their loved ones, familiar America.

"Coffee, tea, or milk, sir?" a strident feminine voice said over his shoulder. Grimes whipped around.

Sergeant First Class Jeff Sanderson was grinning at him, the source of the imitation. "Hey Grimesy."

"Sergeant! Am I in your seat?" Grimes started to get up.

Sanderson waved him back down and pointed at the vacant seat next to Grimes. "This one's open. Do you mind?"

"Not at all."

Sanderson stowed his gear and sat, leaning back in his chair and sighing. "Cheesecake," he said.

"Excuse me, sir?"

"Cut the 'sir' shit, Grimes, and call me Jeff. The first thing I'm going to do when I get back is find a slice of New York-style cheesecake. With cherry topping. I'm going to eat it milligram by milligram." He groaned, then laughed. "My mouth would be watering, except that I don't have any fucking spit."

Grimes reached under his seat and pulled out a water bottle. He carried one everywhere since the battle. He was never going anywhere unprepared, ever again.

Jeff looked at the bottle and grinned. "Funny how you're always offering me something to drink just when I need it."

Grimes raised a shoulder uncomfortably. Jeff took the bottle and pursed his lips, swallowing a mouthful of water. He passed it back, then began digging for something in the bag under his seat. "Thanks. I'll get you back when we're stateside."

Grimes tried to demur, but Sanderson just grinned at him and put headphones over his ears.

The flight was long and miserable. The Army didn't exactly spring for First Class accommodations, so most guys hardly got any sleep with the noise of the engines and turbulence. It was stuffy, cramped, and generally miserable. SNAFU.

Grimes slept through their layover at Rammstein. He stumbled into the aisle somewhere over the Atlantic to take a piss and wash his face, then went back to his seat. Jeff's headphones were still in place, but his head was tilted back against the seat, his mouth open. He was breathing softly and deeply. Grimes climbed over his legs and tried to get comfortable. His foot was aching, still healing after weeks of recovery in Mogadishu. He was supposed to keep it elevated, but with the seat mixup he was stuck in the middle of the plane. With no other choice, he took his mind off the pain and fell into a fitful sleep.

He woke as they were getting back into Pope Air Force Base after a fifteen hour flight. Sanderson was already awake and reading a book. He glanced over as Grimes straightened up, gingerly working out a crick in his neck.

"You know what your next move is?"

Grimes shrugged. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse and low from sleep. "Guess I'd better find a CO first."

Sanderson nodded, then flipped a page and went back to his book. Grimes straightened up and drank some water, peering out the small window.

* * *

Four hours later, Grimes hefted his ruck and exchanged a tightlipped smile with Colette. They began to fight their way through the milling crowd of Rangers, working their way to the base parking lots. They'd been given three days of leave, although some guys were being held to get checked out with the unit shrink. Those that couldn't leave didn't complain much; their minds were all the way back in Somalia anyway.

He'd probably sleep on base, but the first thing everyone wanted was a hot meal, and not just mess food. A bunch of guys, Grimes included, got their most recent paychecks and took the bus into Fayetteville. After cashing their pay, they went straight for the nearest chain steakhouse.

Grimes was on his fourth beer when the D-Boys arrived. In their enthusiastic, inebriated state, the Rangers welcomed the group to the table and waved a waitress over to order more rounds. Grimes chugged the last of his Budweiser so the girl would take the empty, and when he lowered his bottle he saw Jeff Sanderson sitting across from him, smiling.

"Better than tea, huh?"

Grimes just grinned.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of noise and motion. They went through four courses of food and countless rounds of drinks. Grimes switched to water around midnight, but he was still drunk by the time they were asked to leave at 2 am. He went outside and joined the crowd on the sidewalk waiting for cabs or agreeable locals to take them back to the base. The D-Boys finished paying their tab and came outside as well.

"My place ain't too far if one of you wants to crash," Hoot Gibson said to no one in particular. Grimes gaped at the terse, hardass Hoot offering a couch to a bunch of rowdy guys, but Sizemore didn't seem to think much of it. Adonis took Hoot's offer and followed him to the parking lot.

"I've got space too, if you're tired of a bunk. Payback for the water on the plane."

It was Sanderson again, pitching his voice just for Grimes to hear. Grimes nodded gratefully. Jesus, D-Boys with apartments waiting for them...some guys really had it good.

He was half-asleep when Jeff pulled into his parking space outside his place. He was worn out with pain, and a night of heavy drinking and eating had exhausted him further. He numbly followed Sanderson inside like a shadow. Sanderson pushed him down onto a low leather couch and got him a blanket, then disappeared into a back room. With the blanket pulled over him, Grimes laid his head down and was out.

He woke up once in the middle of the night to stumble into a bathroom and relieve his aching bladder, then slept more until Sanderson woke him up. With a gentle hand on his shoulder, blue eyes smiling above him, and the smell of maple syrup in his nostrils, Grimes thought he was in heaven. No more reveille and bad coffee; at least not today.

They had oatmeal flavored with maple syrup, all Sanderson could offer with an empty cupboard. Grimes sipped his coffee and tried to listen as Sanderson talked about his plans for the day. He kept getting distracted with the thorough way Sanderson licked his spoon.

"I'm going to get some groceries and pick up my mail. You can take a shower and do whatever; the phone's in the bedroom if you want to use that. After I get back I can take you to Bragg, or downtown...whichever."

"I'll figure something out. Thanks for letting me stay last night, Sergeant," Grimes said sincerely, putting down his cup.

"No problem," Sanderson said breezily. "And for chrissakes, call me Jeff. Don't make me tell you again." He got up and cleared their bowls, then grabbed his keys and a navy blue peacoat. "See you later."

Grimes luxuriated in the shower until the hot water ran out, washing every inch of his body. He stroked off a quick one while the steam was clouding his mind, making him feel lazily sensuous and unaware of anything but the present moment. He was sorry to have to turn off the water.

In the steamy bathroom, he wrapped a towel around his hips and borrowed some of Sanderson's shaving cream and a razor. He was just putting some toothpaste on his finger, not wanting to violate Sanderson's toothbrush, when he heard the front door open and close.

"I got cheesecake!" Sanderson's voice rang through the apartment.

Grimes grinned and put his finger in his mouth, scrubbing his teeth as best he could.

He heard footsteps in the hall, then saw Sanderson behind him in the foggy mirror. He took a look at Grimes' toothpaste-covered finger and grinned, but didn't say anything about it. He looked further down, past the towel wrapped around Grimes' waist, to his left foot. "It's okay getting that wet, huh?"

Grimes nodded and bent to spit in the sink. "All healed on the outside, but it hurts like a motherfucker when I'm on it for too long. I took some of your Advil, if that's okay."

"Whatever you need. You want to borrow some clothes? You should get off your feet, rest up."

"Clothes would be good," Grimes answered, thinking sheepishly of how nasty his clothes had gotten the night before, with the smell of bar and cigarettes on them. He didn't respond to the rest, about his foot. He still felt embarrassed about being a burden on people.

After Sanderson delivered him a spare set of boxers, jeans, and an old Army t-shirt, Grimes got dressed with the loaned clothes. He felt a thrill go up his spine as he pulled on the boxers, knowing they were Sanderson's, that they had touched Sanderson's bare ass and groin. Part of him felt embarrassed for getting a kick out of it, but he didn't try to smother the smile on his face when he came back into the living room.

Sanderson had a plate waiting for him with a huge slice of cherry cheesecake on it.

Grimes laughed at the size of the slice and took the plate, sitting on the couch and putting his foot up. "Is there any left after this?"

"Enough for another meal." Sanderson sat in an easy chair and dug into his own slice. "Have dinner with me tonight."

Grimes looked down at his plate, pushing a bit of crust around with his fork and forcing himself not to smile. "Uh...okay."

Sanderson laughed nervously, to Grimes's amazement.

"Sorry," he said. "I just hate going from a mission, around hundreds of people for months, to sitting by myself in my empty apartment. Since you're here and you have leave, I thought..."

"Hey, it's cool." Looking forward to the idea, Grimes took another bite of cheesecake and settled back into the couch. "I'd like that."

* * *

Sanderson went to the gym after finishing his cheesecake, leaving Grimes to fend for himself. He spent an hour on a collect call to reassure his parents that he hadn't lost his foot, then sat down to watch soap operas. Sanderson came back dripping with sweat and headed right into the bathroom with a cursory greeting.

Grimes blinked, no longer seeing the TV. It took several minutes to get the image of Jeff's lean chest and defined abs out of his head. The guy was no spring chicken, but he looked like a cover model for Men's Health magazine.

The cheesecake suddenly felt like a rock in Grimes's stomach. While in the Mog, he'd rarely taken his shirt off because of all the little high school grads running around like they were fresh from basketball practice. He was a few years out of high school and had the soft belly to prove it. Now, having finished that slice of cheesecake, he felt guilty for it. But he couldn't go running to work it off with his foot still healing. Maybe there was a pool nearby...

He'd found a YMCA in the phone book and was about to call for directions before he realized he didn't have trunks to swim in. Cursing his stupidity, he put the phone down and braced his hands on the kitchen counter.

"Not rethinking dinner, are you?"

Grimes looked up. Sanderson was toweling his wet hair, wearing a pair of jeans that hung off his hips and a worn t-shirt full of holes. It brought out the blue in his eyes, Grimes noticed.

"Nah." He pushed off the counter and shoved his hands in his pockets.

"Good." He tossed his towel behind him into the bathroom, then gestured to the fridge. "Pull the steaks out. We gotta get started."

* * *

It turned out Sanderson liked to cook as much as he liked to customize his rifle. He had Grimes prepare some sort of marinade involving cranberries and a sauce made from chestnuts—suitable, considering the approaching holidays, he realized. Sanderson put together a tossed salad of fresh greens and satsuma oranges.

With the steaks marinating and the salad in the fridge, Grimes was ready for a beer and some more TV, but Sanderson shook his head. He opened his cookbook to a page for apple-walnut scones. Grimes gave in to his begging tastebuds and took the bag of flour Sanderson offered him.

"You make a good chef's assistant," Sanderson said as they were cleaning up. "Maybe you should move in, pay your rent in kitchen work."

Grimes shrugged, flattered and surprised, and not knowing how to react. But pragmatism and reality kicked in before he could enthusiastically agree. "I'm based in Benning."

"Right, right. Ever think about trying out for Delta?"

Grimes shot him a look under raised eyebrows, reclaiming his place on the couch. He took the beer Sanderson offered him. "I'm moving to Mexico as soon as I'm discharged. I don't much like having a job where I get shot at." Sanderson laughed. Grimes didn't have the heart to tell him he was only half-kidding.

The sergeant said that baseball was his preferred sport, to play and to watch, but with the season long over they made do with football. By the time Sanderson turned on the George Foreman Grill, Grimes was feeling pleasantly buzzed and relaxed from the beer and easy conversation. Dinner was ready before he could finish setting the table.

"This is great," he sighed at his plate, taking a seat. The meat was perfectly medium-rare, the salad colorful, and the beer was already a good flavor on his tongue. "Does the rest of Delta know about you?"

"Some," Sanderson said as he picked up a steak knife. "I don't do it for everybody. Just on special occasions."

"What's special about this one?" Oh god, the meat was as good as he had thought it would be. Smoky, sweet, tender and juicy. He moaned softly and took another bite.

"You have to ask?" Sanderson was giving him an unreadable look. Grimes blinked and thought, Homecoming, stupid. At least, that's what he thought Sanderson meant. Part of him thought, maybe hoped, that the special occasion was him being there.

They finished the meal in silence, concentrating too much on eating to make any further conversation. Grimes cleared the table and loaded the dishwasher while Sanderson took his third beer out to his balcony. When the kitchen was cleaned up, Grimes cut two more slices of cheesecake—one significantly smaller slice for himself—and took the plates outside. Sanderson looked oddly pleased when he saw what Grimes offered.

"Little cold out here," Grimes murmured. He could see his breath.

"Feels good, after that godawful heat." Sanderson took a bite of cake and looked at Grimes. "You mind it? The cold?"

"Not really." Pulling out his cigarettes, Grimes lit one and took a drag. Sanderson put his plate down.

"Aw, c'mon." To Grimes' surprise, he reached over and plucked the stick out of his mouth. "That ruins the flavor."

"Of what?"

"This." Sanderson stubbed the cigarette out on the railing, then hooked his hand around Grimes' neck and leaned in. A hot, sweet mouth covered his, agile tongue flicking between his lips.

Grimes froze but didn't pull away. His growing suspicions had been dead on. And with the possibility of Sanderson—Jeff—seducing him in his mind, he had allowed himself to explore the idea. It didn't repulse him completely. Or rather, not at all. Sanderson was a competent, intelligent, good-looking man. And he had a great body. And cooked like a master chef. And engaged in battle like he'd been machined for it. And—

Teeth dug into his lower lip. He twitched, making a sound in the back of his throat. Jeff pulled away.

"I'm still not sure where I stand with you, Grimesy. This..."

"...is okay." But Grimes took a step back, and collected their plates of uneaten dessert. "Let's go inside."

Jeff drew the venetian blinds as Grimes put the plates in the fridge. With the door and shades closed, the living room was suddenly more intimate. Only a floorlamp provided lighting. Grimes hesitated by the kitchen counter, then walked toward the couch when Jeff gestured.

"Whatever you're comfortable with. Just talking, even. That's fine."

Grimes sat and laced his fingers, forearms propped on his knees. "I've never done this before. Have you?"

Jeff shrugged. "Depends on what you mean."

"Everything. Sex. With a man."

"Yes. What have you done?"

His palms felt sweaty. "Just...thought about it." He pushed himself to be more honest, remembering why his shower had taken so long. "Thought about you."

Jeff smiled and nodded. "I was hoping you'd say that." He shifted a few inches closer, making the space between them more intimate, but not pressuring. "I'm not looking for a relationship. But it'd be nice to be stateside and enjoy some things I've been missing."

"Such as?" Was he a booty call and didn't even know it?

"Anything, like I said. Just a connection between two people, with no questions asked and no recriminations. Make as much or as little of that as you will."

Grimes unlaced his fingers and looked in Jeff's face. Damn, he had intense eyes. "I liked that kiss."

Jeff's eyelashes drifted lower. His eyes were hooded at any given moment, but that comment made him look downright sultry. Like the only kind of dessert he wanted was a big plate of John Grimes. "If you like it, you can have more."

Grimes licked his lips and moved closer on the couch. "Okay." If he wanted this, he wasn't going to allow himself to pussyfoot around about it, like he did with every other major thing in his life. He had an ambition problem about most things, but the stirring in his jeans insisted on an attitude adjustment.

Jeff put a hand on his shoulder, his fingers adjusting the angle of Grimes's head. Grimes kept his eyes open when Jeff leaned in again, watching the lips part before they met his. He closed his eyes when he couldn't focus anymore, concentrating on what he felt. He felt heat, and soft pressure, and the thrill of a tongue teasing his. He pressed deeper, licking back. His lips were on fire, throbbing, tongue tingling.

Jeff slid his mouth across Grimes's cheek, licking a cool path to his ear and sucking the lobe into his mouth. Grimes weakened, his fingers digging for purchase on Jeff's chest, scratching through the t-shirt. His dick throbbed as Jeff panted lightly into his ear.

"I thought I was going to come in my pants, watching you eat dinner."

Grimes grinned. He could reach Jeff's neck with his tongue, and took an experimental lick. The skin was salty and hot. "You frequently have that problem?"

Jeff bit his earlobe again and let it go, mouth working down Grimes's throat as Grimes leaned his head back. He could feel Jeff's fingers on the hem of his sweatshirt, pushing it up far enough to skim his touch along Grimes's stomach. "Only when you're moaning like a bitch in heat."

Grimes laughed. "Fuck off."

"You think I'm kidding?" Jeff pushed him back against the arm of the couch and propped himself over him, forearms and biceps flexing. "I should buy the whole fucking cow next time I'm in the store. You'd think you Rangers hadn't closed the restaurant last night."

"Hey, I have appetites." Grimes put his finger through one of the holes in Jeff's t-shirt, feeling the softness of his skin and obliques like a band of steel. Jeff moaned and kissed him again, muscles shifting as he lowered himself further over Grimes.

It wasn't enough contact, Grimes realized. He wanted to feel Jeff's weight on him, wanted to grind his hard-on against someone willing. He grabbed Jeff's hips and pulled, arching up off the couch to meet him. Jeff willingly let his weight down, giving Grimes the full-body contact he was seeking. It felt amazing, all that strength, the hot hardness pressing against his aching cock. He moved his hands up Jeff's back, fingers digging in desperately.

Jeff slid off the couch.

Grimes blinked and looked down, his fingers still trying to find a handhold. He was clutching Jeff's forearms. "What..."

Jeff pulled his arms away and reached for the waistband of Grimes's borrowed sweatpants. "Getting you a little more comfortable."

"Um, you don't— I—" Grimes wasn't sure what to do, with Jeff trying to pull the pants down over his ass. Jeff looked up and paused.

"Too soon?"

Grimes blinked and nodded. "Gimme a second."

Jeff leaned in, bracing his hands on Grimes's spread legs. They kissed gently, no tongues, getting used to each other again. When Jeff pulled away, Grimes felt steadier.

"Can you tell me what you want?"

Grimes thought about the next, most obvious course of action, and how he wanted it to go. "Not the couch."

Jeff nodded, his hands flexing on Grimes's thighs. "The bed?"

"O-okay." Grimes wasn't sure he was ready for that, but he just didn't want the couch. Getting blown on a couch would be trashy. And the floor would be worse.

He and Jeff stood at the same time. Jeff smiled and led the way to his bedroom, flicking off the living room light as they went. In the dark hallway, Grimes fixated on the sense of a body next to him in the dark. It grounded him.

In his room, Jeff didn't turn on a light. Instead he picked up a box of matches and lit a couple of big, thick pillar candles on his bureau. In the low light, Grimes saw a wide, low bed with a short headboard, and matching tables flanking it on both sides.

Jeff crossed the room to Grimes. "Mood lighting," he murmured.

Grimes grinned, still a little nervous. Jeff saw that and cupped his face with both hands, pulling him slowly into an easy kiss. Grimes closed his eyes and put his hands on Jeff's waist. After a minute his hands slid around to Jeff's back, then into a tight hug. He felt Jeff's hands on him too, kneading his back, down to his ass to pull him closer. The grip only made him want to grind harder. He gave in to the urge, pressing his cock into Jeff's hip.

"Yeah," Jeff moaned against his mouth. His fingers flexed on Grimes's ass, massaging the muscles. "Fuck, you feel good."

"So do you," Grimes panted. He put his hands on Jeff's ass and squeezed experimentally. Jeff shimmied and moaned again. The muscles rolled and flexed under Grimes's hands. Jeff had an amazing body. He wished he'd gotten a better look at it when Jeff had come out of the shower.

Just then Jeff let go of him, leaning back far enough to strip his t-shirt over his head. He pulled off Grimes's borrowed sweatshirt next, then ran his fingers through the hair on his chest. Grimes shivered and adjusted his grip. Jeff's hard stomach was rubbing against him, skin to skin. He was hot and smooth to the touch. Round pink nipples stood at attention.

"I like this," Jeff said, still playing with Grimes's chest hair. His fingers brushed his nipples and made him jolt. Jeff grinned and touched him again, rubbing the flat part of his nipples. Grimes felt his cock throb in response. He groaned and pulled Jeff closer, kissing him fiercely, his teeth scraping lips and tongue. Jeff met him with equal passion, hands wrestling for a stronger grip. Grimes used the element of surprise and pushed Jeff backwards, slamming him up against a wall and grabbing a fistful of hair. Jeff narrowed his eyes and looked at Grimes.

"Here I thought you hadn't done this before."

Grimes realized he had bared his teeth, and his chest was heaving with panting breaths. He relaxed his grip on Jeff's hair and grabbed the back of his neck, shaking him like a lion with a cub. "You're getting my fucking blood up."

"Is that an adjective or an expletive?"

Before Grimes could figure out what that meant, Jeff had hooked an ankle around Grimes's leg and pulled him to the floor. They rolled and wrestled for a minute before Jeff pinned him. Narrow hips and a hard cock ground against his pelvis in slow circles. Grimes arched his neck, eyes rolling in their sockets. "Fu-uck..."

"That what you want?" Jeff's voice was hot in his ear, tongue flicking, teeth biting the lobe. Grimes groaned and jerked underneath him.

"Jeff—"

"All you have to do is say yes."

"Yeah..." Grimes let his legs fall open and felt Jeff settle more snugly between his thighs. "Yeah, c'mon."

But Jeff pushed himself up, sitting on his heels. Grimes looked down his body at Jeff, confused.

"Not on the floor."

Right. Floor bad. Worse than couch. Grimes pushed himself upright and took the hand Jeff offered. Before Grimes could hesitate, Jeff reclined on the bed and pulled him down to lay at his side. He intertwined their legs and pulled Grimes closer by the hips, hands pushing under the waistband of the sweatpants. Grimes started at the touch, but Jeff distracted him again with a deep kiss. His hands wandered, massaging, fingers moving Grimes's ass muscles around.

Jeff broke the kiss and sucked on the corner of Grimes's mouth. "Can I take your pants off now?"

He moaned his approval of the idea. Jeff pushed the pants lower and Grimes kicked them off, then reached between them and fumbled for the button of Jeff's jeans. Jeff helped him and stripped the jeans and briefs off quickly. Grimes propped himself up on an elbow and looked at Jeff's body, lit by the low candlelight.

It was an artful study of light and shade, muscles honed and defined to perfection. His cock was long and slender and straight, with a chiseled cut head. It looked like something you'd see in a textbook, or more likely, a sex shop. Only, this model had clear fluid seeping from a slit on the end, making it look tasty and inviting. Grimes found his mouth watering. Without thinking, he scooted down and bent his head.

Jeff's hand skidded over the shaved part of his head, stopping him. "You don't even know if I'm safe. You go into every situation with no recon and guns blazing, soldier?"

The deliberate language made Grimes feel hot. "I'm safe. Haven't fucked anyone in a year; got a clean bill from the doc before we shipped out. They checked my bloodwork and everything. You?"

"Check-up three months ago. I'm good, too. Listen, Grimes," he added, his hand still on Grimes's head, "You don't have to go too fast here."

Grimes grinned cockily and brushed aside Jeff's hand, lowering his head the rest of the way. He inhaled deeply, enjoying the faint musk and smell of body wash. He tasted Sanderson's dick with an experimental lick. He liked the slick, salty taste.

Jeff's voice sounded breathless and a little strained. "Wrap your hand around the base."

Grimes paused and looked up. "I've gotten a blowjob before. I know the tips."

Jeff grinned and waved his hand expansively in a "carry on" motion. Grimes licked his lips and took just the head inside his mouth. It seemed like a lot at first, but he breathed carefully through his nose and it wasn't so bad. He licked down and took more of the shaft in his mouth, going until his lips met his fist.

Jeff moaned and shifted his hips. He reached down and touched Grimes's head, rubbing his bare scalp gently. It felt good, his fingertips brushing against the rasp of a few days' growth, like a cat's tongue in reverse. But after a few more minutes Jeff tapped his head lightly. Grimes pulled up.

"That feels great, but it's not what I had in mind." Jeff's face was flushed.

Grimes stretched out and propped his head on one hand, the other stroking the dips and ridges of Jeff's abs. "Which was?"

In answer, Jeff rolled away. He got something out of a bedside table drawer. When he rolled back, Grimes saw that it was a bottle of lubricant. Jeff put it down between them, then looked up into Grimes's face. "I trust you."

Grimes thought he had that backwards. "Excuse me?"

"I want you to fuck me."

"I'm not sure..." he trailed off, not knowing what to say.

"I'll walk you through it. You up for it?"

Grimes glanced down at his dick, still hard. Jeff rolled his eyes but huffed out a laugh. "Come over here."

Grimes settled himself on top of Jeff, enjoying finally being able to grind against him with no clothing between them. They kissed for a few minutes, and then Grimes noticed Jeff's finger tracing the cleft of his ass. It was a hint for what he was supposed to do next.

"Get some of the slick on your finger," Jeff whispered. "It'll warm up on contact."

Grimes followed orders and rubbed the lube between his fingertips, then reached between their bodies. He didn't need instruction on this part, now that he knew what Jeff was after. He rubbed the lube up and down Jeff's cleft, then put more slick on his fingers. With a little probing he found Jeff's hole and gently slid one finger inside.

Jeff arched and moved his hips, groaning softly. "Perfect." Grimes pulled out and pushed in again, fingers fucking him softly, watching Jeff get caught up in the sensation. He got caught up in it himself, feeling the hot soft inside of Jeff's body, the muscles squeezing his finger but gradually getting looser. After a few minutes he slid a second finger inside. Jeff groaned, but a look of discomfort flickered across his face.

"No?"

"It's fine, just...add a bit more lube. Keep your fingers inside me and let the lube slide down them."

Grimes watched the slick dribble down his fingers and felt his cock throb. He had a vision of his own come dripping down his fingers like that, sliding into Jeff's waiting body, and felt light-headed from the rush of blood to his groin.

"Fuck, yeah." Jeff's hard dick was dripping pre-come onto his stomach, jerking with every beat of his pulse. Grimes took up the pace he'd set with his fingers, and wrapped his free hand around Jeff's cock. He jerked it slowly, matching the rhythm of his fingers, gradually speeding up. Soon he was panting raggedly, his own cock dripping onto his thigh and the bed, fingers plunging deep into Jeff's ass.

Jeff groaned and reached down, grabbing Grimes's closest arm. He opened his eyes and looked down. "I don't want to come yet, and you're driving me pretty fucking close to it."

Grimes grinned and pulled his fingers carefully out of his ass, then stroked the loosened hole. "So, now what?"

In short order he'd taken Jeff's place on the bed, stretched out on his back with his legs bent and spread. Jeff straddled him and pulled a condom out of the drawer, efficiently covering Grimes's cock, then adding more lubricant. Finally he leaned over and propped himself up with one hand, the other holding Grimes's dick in position. Their breath washed over each other's face, eyes searching the other's gaze. Grimes felt himself push into Jeff's body and lifted his head, thrusting his tongue deep into Jeff's mouth at the same time.

Jeff moaned and sucked on his tongue, pushing his hips down violently and taking Grimes hilt-deep. Grimes flailed for a moment, then found a grip on Jeff's hips and snapped up, pulling Jeff down at the same time for another thrust. With the violence of their movements the kiss was broken, but they hardly noticed.

They had their foreheads pressed together, panting into each other's mouth. Jeff rolled his hips and Grimes directed with his hands, both of them working together.

Never before had Grimes fully appreciated the value of teamwork.

But he dearly appreciated Jeff's ass. His slid his hands around to the back and let Jeff fuck himself on his cock, his fingers doing some more exploring. He found the place where they were joined, rubbing the stretched skin of Jeff's hole and feeling himself slide in and out of it. He wished he could see it, but he had a pretty good imagination. It was that image that brought on his climax, his body seizing in anticipation. He came first, groaning between clenched teeth and jerking his hips up helplessly.

Jeff sighed and stopped moving. He stayed on top of Grimes, hands braced on his chest. Grimes had relaxed completely, arms falling to the side and fingers twitching.

"Like that?"

A satisfied grin crawled over Grimes's face. "Better than fast-roping."

"In my experience..." Jeff reached down and held the base of Grimes's cock, pulling himself off. "Few things are better than a hard fuck."

Grimes rolled his head on the pillow and watched Jeff tie off and throw away the condom. "Sorry."

"For enjoying yourself? Save it." Jeff stretched out next to him. He was harder than ever, the skin of his cock tight and red. Grimes rolled over and touched the shaft, watching it twitch under his fingers.

"Jeff. You do me."

Jeff didn't ask if he was certain he wanted it. He just looked at Grimes's face. He nodded, and got another condom out of the drawer.

Grimes didn't make a lot of sound while Jeff rolled him onto his hands and knees and prepped him with lube and fingers. He concentrated on his breathing, and on relaxing muscles he wasn't used to working with.

Jeff swiveled his fingers and brushed against Grimes's prostate. Grimes felt his cock half-harden in the space of two seconds. He grunted and pressed back into Jeff's hand, spreading his legs more. He had never felt so open and exposed in his life.

Rangers were trained not to expose themselves in dangerous situations. It felt liberating to do it now.

"Ready?"

Grimes nodded and lowered his head to the bed, stretching his back. Jeff hissed and pulled his fingers out before pushing his cock in. There was a moment of tension and resistance, quickly passed. Grimes took a few more breaths and felt Jeff's hips press against his ass, his cock fully embedded.

"Go," he said hoarsely. He reached down and grabbed himself, stroking his renewed erection. Jeff pulled out, a prolonged sensation that had Grimes's eyes rolling back. Then Jeff thrust in again, angling so he rubbed across Grimes's prostate, a slow push that made Grimes whimper helplessly. He couldn't take this. It made him feel like he was being undone, like a torture technique that used time to drive a person mad. In this case it was time and overwhelming pleasure. He pulled himself forward, then pushed back, fucking himself.

Jeff grabbed his hips and held him still, fighting for control. Grimes reached back and their hands grappled briefly.

Jeff won. With an arm twisted behind his back in a hold that could break his wrist, Grimes held still and let Jeff fuck him as slowly as he wanted.

It went on and on. Jeff released his hand and Grimes used it to continue stroking himself, slower this time, not wanting to come until Jeff had. Finally one thrust came faster, then the next faster than that. One of Jeff's arms wrapped around Grimes's chest, his fingers curling in Grimes's chest hair in search of a handhold.

Grimes had to stop stroking himself and put one hand on the headboard to keep his head from knocking into it. Jeff fucked faster and faster, then moaned brokenly and raked scratches down Grimes's chest with his free hand. Grimes marveled at the feel of the dick twitching in his ass.

Jeff got his breath back and pulled out. Grimes found himself flipped over quickly, surprisingly fast given he'd expected Jeff to collapse onto the bed as he himself had done. Instead Jeff laid on his stomach and sucked Grimes's cock into his mouth, taking him in all the way.

Grimes reached up and gripped the edge of the headboard.

Jeff's cheeks hollowed as he sucked hard, tongue swirling, lips milking the shaft. Grimes cried out and came. His arm shook and the headboard banged his knuckles into the wall. He pulled his arm back instinctively, too caught up in the feel of Jeff swallowing to notice the pain.

Jeff sucked him until he was soft, then released him and moved up to lie at his side. Grimes felt him take his hand and kiss the red knuckles. He opened his eyes and rolled onto his side, putting his other hand on Jeff's chest.

Jeff touched his chest in return. Grimes looked down and saw red marks under the hair.

"Never done that before," Jeff murmured. Grimes grinned and rubbed one of the marks.

"Felt good."

"The scratches?" Jeff sat up and pulled the condom off.

Grimes stretched. He was a little sore, but pleasantly so. "All of it."

Jeff got up and went into the bathroom. Grimes heard water running, and then Jeff returned with a steaming washcloth before leaving again. After Grimes cleaned up, Jeff came back with the cheesecake. Laughing, Grimes pulled up the sheets and accepted his plate.

They ate and talked for a while until they were both too tired to continue, then blew out the candles and settled down for sleep.

After everything that had happened, Grimes was tired but had a lot on his mind. He felt Jeff wrap an arm around his waist and press against him from behind, spooning. While Jeff's breath brushed over the back of his neck, Grimes let his mind wander.

He obviously couldn't stay at Bragg, and Jeff had said he wasn't interested in a relationship. The cuddling was nice but it didn't have to mean anything. The whole situation was like any other one night stand. Well, aside from the fact that they were both men. And Grimes really didn't care much about that detail, considering he felt an honest attraction to Jeff.

He drifted off into the first comfortable sleep he'd had since leaving the States, lulled by the warm body behind him and the soft breath on his neck.

**Author's Note:**

> For ixchel55 in the blackhawk_fic Christmas 2005 fic exchange on Livejournal.


End file.
